WBY The Winchester Boys
by wildblueyonder6
Summary: Characters:  Sam, Dean, Adam and John.  To suit my evol plan, the boys are all four years apart.  They are 13, 17 and 21 respectively. Summary: You can't pull much over on John Winchester. Parental spanking. Please don't read if this offends you.


Title: The Winchester Boys

Author: Wildblueyonder

Characters: Sam, Dean, Adam and John. To suit my evol plan, the boys are all four years apart. Not canon – whatever. They are 13, 17 and 21 respectively.

Summary: You can't pull much over on John Winchester.

XXX

"Boys!"

Their father yells from the base of the stairs.

All three boys look at each other in varying degrees of worry. Dean raises his hands in universal surrender. "Not me. I haven't fucked anything up in a while."

Sam unfolds himself from the bottom bunk. "Not me. All is well in Sammy land."

Adam vaults off the top bunk.

"So you think it's me? What makes you think it's me?"

"'Cause I'm the oldest, kicking my ass is something the old man would rather not do. I require more of a work out. Plus like I said. I'm in the clear."

Adam grabs his jeans and pulls them up over narrow hips. Both of his brothers are doing the same thing.

"Sam?"

"Nope, been studying my ass of for SATs. He's pissed about that but not pissed enough to tan my ass – nope it's you little brother."

Adam grimaces. "But he called all of us."

"So maybe he wants to make an example of how much of a world of pain you are gonna be in and why it is in all of our best interests not to fuck with him."

"This is not encouraging, guys." Adam laments buttoning his jeans deftly and zipping up.

"BOYS!"

When John Winchester yells like that, Winchester boys just naturally run. Sam is still tying to step his gargantuan legs into his jeans. He offers what appears to be an exploratory hop and pulls them up, bumping into Adam as they tumble down the stairs.

Dean reaches the bottom first, followed in quick succession by both Sam and Adam.

"Sir?" Dean asks. Adam knows it's because he's the unofficial spokesman. The oldest, the toughest and if he can somehow run interference for his brothers he will.

"Can someone please explain this to me?" Their father waves a somewhat official envelope that even from where Adam is standing looks like it came from his school.

Their father coolly opens the letter and unfolds it with practiced ease.

"It says here that Adam's grades have been dropping significantly this quarter. Anyone want to explain why I wasn't made aware?"

Dean rubs a hand across his chin. A tell that says says more than words can possibly say. "I uh, you were gone Dad and I signed the progress report for you."

"With my signature…'cause you know – this looks like my signature but I sure as hell didn't sign it. And I don't remember you telling me that you signed it"

"I uh, small oversight, Dad."

"Oversight huh?"

"Yes, sir. Then Sam was supposed to help tutor him and I was supposed to make sure it got done. I just got busy."

"Sam?" Dad turns to Sam, eyes blazing.

"Yes, sir, I knew. I mean I've been studying my ass," Sam rethinks the word because Dad isn't really a stickler for words like ass and shit but if he's feeling pissy it's best to be prudent, "…butt off for SATs. I didn't study him like I said I would."

Dad points a sharp finger at Adam. "Well?"

Adam looks at the ratty carpet. "I dunno."

"You dunno? What are you seven?" Dad almost growls the last part.

"I mean, I'm not sure what happened, sir. I just didn't buckle down and do the work. I mean. Training and chores and studying and weapon practice. It's a lot…"

"Do not give me that bullshit, Adam. You know exactly what's expected of you. No more, no less than your brothers. "

"Not true, Dad! Dean didn't graduate high school, why do I have to!"

"You're right. That's one mistake I won't make again. You will graduate high school and you will graduate with good grades. What you do with that afterward is negotiable. But keeping up appearances is important. Besides, your mother would have wanted it and I want it – so by proxy you want it too. "

John glares at all three boys.

"So, who wants it first."

"Sir?" That's Dean again.

"You heard me. Did you not lie and cover up your brother's poor grades?"

"Yes, sir but…"

"Didn't ask for a but Dean. Did you or didn't you"

Dean racks his shoulders back.

"Yes, sir."

"Sam, did you or did you not break a promise to help your little brother out?"

"Yes, sir."

"Adam, did you or did you not choose to ignore schoolwork and then get your brothers to help cover for you?"

"Yes, sir, I did." 

Dad looks from Dean to Sam to Adam. "It seems pretty cut and dry to me. You all lied, you all didn't hold up your end of the bargain and you all deserve to get your asses kicked."

There is nothing anyone can say about that. Even Dean looks chagrined.

"Adam first. You are the one who started this train wreck. You convinced your moron brothers to cover for you or at least convinced them to hide it from me. Jeans down and over the couch."

"Shit." Adam says it softly but not soft enough.

"Are you backtalkin' me boy?"

"No, sir."

"I can add a lick or two for your disrespectful language if you want."

Adam does not want.

"Sorry, Dad." Adam tries a shy smile. He doesn't have Sam's puppy dog eyes but is the youngest and that should count for something.

"You two – pick a corner." He nods to his oldest children. Sam reluctantly heads out but Dean just can't let that go.

Adam hears Dean's righteous indignation. "Dad, I got that you are gonna tear me a new one. I got it - really. But making me stand in the corner? I'm 21. Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"Not at all. I think it's a bit much that you were so damn stupid as to think I wouldn't figure this out. And standing in the corner isn't about embarrassing your dumb ass, it's just giving you time to think about it. I could have you go in the kitchen and think about it but I wanna keep an eye on you. Besides. You don't need any distractions like food or beer or hey – even a glass of water. I want your nose in that corner thinking about why you are getting a spanking."

Dean heads to a corner but continues to talk. Dean almost says it to himself. "A spanking….I can not believe I'm even saying the word, let alone getting one." Then to his father, "Don't you think me listening to you whip Sam and Adam isn't going to be a distraction?"

"Nope, that's negative reinforcement."

From Adam's vantage point, which really isn't very advantageous, he can see out of the corner of his eye where Dean is and can hear where Sam is.

He hears his father unbuckle his belt. _Shit, shit, shit_. Dad's old fashioned about ass kickings but you can never tell how it is going to happen – he doesn't justify himself or his choice, hand, belt, spoon and on one particularly crazy occasion a paint stirrer. _Note to self, don't ever piss the old man off when there are paint stirrers around. _Usually though, when all three boys are in for it, Adam has come to realize that the belt usually comes off. He figures three Winchester asses are much too hard for even John Winchester to dole out a satisfactory licking with just his hand.

Dad doesn't make him drop his boxers, that makes Adam feel grateful. It doesn't help much though because boxers offer about as much protection as a bare assed licking does. A little less embarrassing though.

Ten bright stripes, even, sharp, each one placed with deadly accuracy. His father knows how to paint a boy's ass red. Adam is crying and snotty by the time the last one tags his right hip. He can't help it, his father's belt is supple and the leather aged to perfection. Well, if there is a specific age for ass whipping leather. Dad doesn't comfort him or tell him good job, hang in there, almost done. Adam doesn't want that and his father knows his son. So Dad whips and Adam cries. Finally, it's over and his father does gently put his arm around Adam and shoos him to one of the vacant corners.

"Sam."

Adam can hear Sam shuffle to his father, hears him unbutton and unzip without being prompted and then once again hears the sharp crack of leather on ass. Adam can tell that Sam has his underwear up too. It's obvious because occasionally Dad nails his thighs and the crack is sharper and unmistakable. Adam reaches back to his own thigh where he knows there has to be a bright red stripe.

"Keep your hands off your ass, son."

How in the hell can John Winchester whip one boy and still be aware that another is trying to rub the sting away? Adam ruefully thinks that he probably knows exactly how far Dean's nose is from the wall too. Freakin' eyes in the back of his head.

Adam can't help but count the strokes for Sam. Ten. Just like him. And just like Adam, Sam cries. His brother is big and strong and tough but not tough enough to get through one of Dad's spankings.

Sam heads off to another corner and Adam risks a glance at his oldest brother. Dean saunters to the couch. He's not being disrespectful, but he's got some swagger in his step. He can hear his father's corresponding grunt. It's hard to tell if it's disapproval or admiration. Unsnap, unzip and then Dad is wailing on Dean. It takes Dean longer to cry. But Dad gives him just ten licks too, it's like he knows exactly how hard to wallop each boy to get the desired effect. Adam has no doubt that Dean is getting it harder than Sam and that Sam got it harder than Adam. Still each lick is calculated and careful and_ thoughtfully_ placed on the butt in front of his father. 

It's like the man is a spanking pro. He is that damn accurate. If Adam wasn't still crying he might be actually admiring someone who can lay 30 licks on three boys with the skill of some dude from the inquisition. Which isn't fair, and Adam knows it isn't fair because his ass is red, but there's not a speck of blood. There's no bruising, Adam knows this. His father is that damn good. Optimum pain with little evidence of the licking by tomorrow night. Oh he'll still be sore but the redness will be gone.

"You three head on up to your room. I don't wanna see you till dinner time. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." All three boys answer simultaneously.

"And you're grounded for a week. Starting right now. And Dean? You got one call to that Margie girl to tell her that you won't be there this weekend. I'm raising my sons to be gentlemen and not showing up to a date without letting her know first, well that ain't gonna happen. It's up to you what you tell her but you make sure she knows."

Dean sniffs once, but he's already done crying something that Adam has just started to stop. "Yes, sir."

They file up to their room. Three very chastised, very sore boys. But they don't say a word till they are in the privacy of their room.

"Fuck!" That's Dean and leave it to Dean to express what both Sam and Adam are feeling.

"There ought to be a law or something. That man is a menace to society."

Sam rubs his butt. "No Dean, he's a menace to us. Who the hell's idea was this to cover for you anyway?" Sam slaps Adam lightly on the head.

"Yours."

"Oh."

Dean carefully makes it to the extra bed, eyes it up as if it is made of nails instead of a comfy mattress. "So who was supposed to be in charge of getting the mail?'

Both Sam and Adam glare at Dean. "You."

"Oh."

"Yeah but Adam, you were the one who fucked up in the first place." Dean drops some bass in his voice and damn if he doesn't sound like Dad.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"I think I oughta lick your ass again, just on principle alone."

"Awe, come, on Dean. Seriously. That can't happen."

Dean nods his head. "Yeah, I guess not. But I'm grounded – grounded at 21. That's just wrong on so many levels."

Adam glances at Dean. "Well, think of it this way. At least you won't have to explain to Margie why your ass is striped. That could be more embarrassing. "

Sam nods sagely.

"Well, what if Margie and I like that shit. A little spanking here and there. A little hand print to the butt. Not a bad thing before you slam it home boys."

"TMI, Dean." That's Sam. Because Sam is a prude. Always will be as far as Adam can figure out.

"Well, then at least you don't have to figure out why your ass is red and Margie isn't the one that spanked it." Adam interjects.

Dean arches a brow at that. "Point taken, little brother."

Adam crawls up to the top of the bunk bed and lays down tentatively, laces his hands behind his head.

"So how come we all got ten licks? I mean I am the one who fucked up. There is no reason why we all got the same punishment."

Sam snorts. "Well, sort of. You know I got it harder than you and Dean harder than both of us."

"Yeah, I know but still – ten licks a piece. That sounds pretty damn purposeful to me."

Dean and Sam sit across from each other but it is Dean that speaks.

"When is anything not purposeful with Dad." It's not a question. "He is one of the most deliberate people I know. "

"So what did the ten whacks a piece mean?"

Now it is Sam. "We are all in this together. We figured out the plan. We followed it through, we fucked it up. Each brother played a part in it, each one of us is responsible. It's Dad's version of Semper Fi. "

"Yeah, but always faithful to who?" Adam can't help but ask. He hasn't been a Winchester as long as his brothers.

Dean looks up at Adam on his bunk, "To us, dickhead, to us. Winchesters take up for Winchesters. We watch out for each other, we fight together, we got each other's backs and yeah, we take our licks together. We are brothers."

Adam thinks about it for a bit. Mulls it around. Glances over at Dean as he lays down on his bed and listens to the groan as Sam crawls into the bed beneath him.

"So are you guys mad at me?"

Dean answers. "Well, dude, you are off my Christmas card list, that's for sure."

"I mean it, Dean." Then Adam leans over his bed, eyeing up his middle brother, " C'mon, Sam…are you guys mad at me? "

Sam kicks the bottom of Adam's bunk bed, "Shut up. We're not mad, we are mad we got caught. How many times has Dad said that one!" Adam can't see his big brother's smile but he knows it's there.

"So are we good?" Adam looks over at Dean laying on the bed.

"Yeah, we're good."

Sam chuckles low. "But next time we'll be better."

end


End file.
